


The Fatherhood Chronicles - Christmas Morning

by Aragarna



Series: The Fatherhood Chronicles [13]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragarna/pseuds/Aragarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas morning and Little Neal is very excited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fatherhood Chronicles - Christmas Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the [](http://whitecollarhc.livejournal.com/profile)[whitecollarhc](http://whitecollarhc.livejournal.com/) Advent calendar. It also fills the "sudden danger" square of my [Gen Bingo card](http://aragarna.livejournal.com/164598.html).

  
Neal opened his eyes. It took him half a second to remember which day it was. Excited, he slid out of his little bed and silently walked to the stairs. With caution, he took two steps down the stairs and peeked into the living room. It was all quiet, the Christmas tree majestically standing in the middle. All around it, packages were scattered on the floor, their colorful wrapping glittering softly under the morning sunlight. Next to it, Uncle Neal was sound asleep on the sofa.

A broad smile illuminated the boy’s face. Eyes sparkling with anticipation, he turned around and rushed to his parents’ room.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

The warning came two seconds before the impact.

“Mom, Dad!” Neal exclaimed cheerfully to his parents, before jumping on the bed. “Santa came!”

Recovering from the somewhat brutal wake-up, Peter rubbed his eyes and looked at his three-year-old son perched in the middle of the bed, and smiled at him.

“Merry Christmas, Pumpkin,” he said.

“Do you want to cuddle with us?” Elizabeth asked in a sleepy voice.

“No, let’s get all the presents,” Neal said, grabbing their hands and trying to pull them out of bed.

Peter and Elizabeth exchanged a look that was a mix of tender exasperation and unreserved love for their overeager son.

“Is Uncle Neal awake?” Elizabeth asked.

Little Neal lowered his head, balancing from one foot to another. “Not yet…”

“Okay, go get your slippers first, and you can go downstairs,” Elizabeth commanded. She looked at the clock on the bedside table. “And you can wake up Uncle Neal, but be gentle, okay?”

Neal grinned from ear to ear. “Okay.” And he stormed out of the room.

They got out of bed. Before they followed Neal, Peter pulled Elizabeth close and kissed her tenderly as she was tying her robe at the waist. “Merry Christmas, Hon.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Merry Christmas, Hon.”

They didn’t have time to go much further before Neal returned to their room.

“Keep that special present for later,” El whispered mischievously in Peter’s ear.

Peter grinned and turned his attention to his son. “Okay, Pumpkin, let’s go. And quiet.”

They went downstairs, where Neal Caffrey was curled up under a blanket on the sofa. They had had a lovely Christmas Eve dinner together the night before. Little Neal had gone to bed early, but his parents and uncle stayed up quite late, and in the end, Elizabeth and Peter had offered Neal to stay the night. Since the former guest room was now Little Neal’s room, Big Neal had settled on the couch.

The young boy, plainly awake after a full night of sleep, was now standing beside the sofa, looking down at his uncle and unsure on how to proceed next. For a man who lived so long on the run, Neal Caffrey sure was a heavy sleeper. He must feel safe enough in the Burke home, Peter thought tenderly.

He bent over and whispered to his son. “Go ahead, give him a kiss on the cheek.”

Neal did as he was told, and his uncle stirred and cracked an eye open. Seeing his young namesake’s face two inches from his own face, he backed away and sat up. “Hey, buddy,” he said in a sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle Neal,” the boy said cheerfully.

His uncle grinned at all this morning energy. “Merry Christmas to you too, Neal.” He looked up at Peter and Elizabeth. “And to you too, Mom and Dad.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the designation. His friend was finding it very funny, and of course, the more Peter tried to talk him out of it, the more amused he seemed to be.

“Okay, Neal,” he said, turning to his son. “Let’s check the presents.”

Neal crouched down and started picking up the packages, handing them one by one to Peter for him to read the label before he distributed them to their rightful recipient. Soon, everyone was busy opening their presents, Peter and Little Neal seated by the Christmas tree, Elizabeth next to them perched on the armchair, and Neal Caffrey on the sofa.

Peter was absorbed in putting together the Tsupaiku-bot he had gotten for his son when Neal Caffrey called him.

“Aww, Peter, you shouldn’t have,” he said, holding a giant box of thick crayons.

Peter looked up and frowned. “Huh, that wasn’t for you…”

Neal chuckled. “Oh, really?”

“I must have mixed up…” Peter interrupted himself. “I mean, Santa must have mixed up the packages…”

Neal picked up the torn wrapping paper. “It does say Neal…”

“Just Neal? No B or C?”

“Nope.”

Peter tried to remember. He thought that the present he had wrapped with the red and green striped paper was for Neal Caffrey. But apparently this one was for Neal Burke. Then, which wrapping did he use for Neal Caffrey’s gift? And which package was Pumpkin opening now?

He quickly turned to his son, who was busy tearing apart a package wrapped with a moose decorated paper. The package had roughly the same shape as the big crayon box, which might have been the reason of Peter’s confusion. Except if this one was not a box of crayons, it had to be the box full of fancy chocolates – _alcoholic_ chocolate.

Peter reached out and grabbed the box just as Little Neal was reaching for a chocolate – his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Ignoring the giggles he could hear behind his back from El and Neal Caffrey, Peter took the box away from his son, as gently as possible. “Sorry, Pumpkin, that one wasn’t for you.”

Neal looked up at him, confused and on the verge of tears. That little face was breaking Peter’s heart.

“Sorry, buddy,” he said again, presenting him the box of crayons. “Hmm, Santa mixed up the presents. This is the one for you. Look!”

A bright smile lightened Neal’s face again. He took the box and opened it, grabbing a couple of crayons. Sensing the imminent danger, Peter quickly grabbed a large piece of wrapping paper, flattened it a bit and slid it to his son. Neal Caffrey knelt down next to him.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, “Want to draw? How about a Christmas tree?”

Peter leaned back against the sofa, and El slid down to sit next to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him. His wife in his arms, watching his son and his best friend crouched together by the Christmas tree, Peter was seized by a familiar nostalgia. His throat suddenly tight, he realized, once again, what a lucky man he was.

 

[More Fatherhood Chronicles](http://aragarna.livejournal.com/110091.html).


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